Of Star Wars and Babysitting
by little-bit-dorky
Summary: "Are you lost or something?" He wanted to ask something else, like 'who do you belong to' or to crack some lame joke that would go over her head about Harvard churning 'em out young these days. Oneshot where Mike is sweet and Harvey is incredulous.


**Pointless little one-shot, made because I am avoiding studying and think that Mike's enthusiasm and care should be rewarded. Poorly written because I am running on too-little-sleep and too-much-coffee, so I apologise if it's OOC or just plain bad. Also: Only two months until season two comes out. Meep!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Suits. If I did Rachel and Mike would be together, not to mention the fact that I probably wouldn't be sitting in a crappy little flat in Cape Town avoiding studying for my history exam.**

"Es'cuse me."

A tentative voice rang out from behind of his cubicle, disturbing the groove he'd worked himself into whilst proof-reading the McIntyre briefs for Harvey. He'd had a grand total of three hours of sleep the night before and was currently running on his third – no, forth – cup of coffee. He looked up, expecting to see someone standing over him, but didn't see anyone. Huh, must be imagining things. Then he heard someone cleat their throat and glanced up again. A mop of dark blond curls, followed by a pair of green eyes and a cute little button nose poked their way out from behind the wall.

"Uh. Yes? Can I help you?"

Mike Ross raised his eyebrows as the small child made her way into his space, hands clasped behind her back, bright pink wellington boots making a smacking sound against the floor.

"Are you lost or something?"

He wanted to ask something else, like 'who do you belong to' or to crack some lame joke that would go over her head about Harvard churning 'em out young these days.

The kid took in a big breath, and then, in one go, "Mommy told me to wait in the lobby but it is so-o-o boring in there and there are no toys, so I went 'sploring. 'Cept now I don't know where to go and I'm worried that mommy won't be able to find me and then she'll get all scared and her voice will go all high and squeaky, like the time Sir Fred went missing. Because Mrs Graham was sick and couldn't watch me, she said today was going to be a mommy and Mo day today, but she needed to see miss Jess-ka and she said she'd be quick, but she took _so _long... Oh my gosh! Is that Boba Fet?"

She rushed up to the open desk drawer in which, indeed, a figurine of Boba Fet lay.

(hidden because Mike didn't want to be mocked by his fellow associates, there because Mike was a geek, and Boba Fet was bad-ass and Trevor had given him the figurine when they were twelve and some kid had made a jab about how Mike should go running to him mommy – oh wait, he didn't have one, did he? Trevor had taken him to the arcade and, after getting 100 tickets because he totally rocked ski-ball, had gotten the figure as a prize and had presented it to Mike with the earnest idea that Boba Fet could totally be his good luck charm, and what did bullies like Jason Phillips know anyway? Though it hadn't proved to be all that lucky lately, he'd had it on him when he'd gotten expelled from college. He didn't really know why he kept it.)

Okay. So this six year old knew Star Wars. Great. That gave him something to talk about with her as he tried to find her mother (he'd been needing a break from those briefs anyway... He's started to formulate bad puns about working on briefs in briefs and the need be make this brief in the back of his mind). He eased his way out of his chair, wincing as he moved his sore muscles out of the cramped sitting position he'd been in for the past four hours. He wondered why none of the other associates weren't wondering about the child in their midst (they were probably unsure of how to handle a kid. It required a sort of empathy, a sort of _care_ that they didn't possess).

"Yes, yes it is. You can play with him for a bit, if you want. Let's go find your mother shall we?"

The girl's face broke into a wide grin as she reached for the toy, her eyes wide.

"My uncle says that Boba Fet is the coolest Star Wars person. But I think that Chewy is."

Mike chuckled and motioned for her to follow him.

"My name's Mike. Who are you?"

He queried, as she started skipping along besides him. The other associates smirked at him as he passed, cracking jokes about how he'd finally found a job he was suited for – babysitting. Mike rolled his eyes and shrugged it off, because, honestly, most of the other associates were tools and he didn't really care what they thought of him. And, besides, he'd rather be the type of guy who tried to rescue the young and defenceless, in this case this random child wandering the halls of Pearson-Hardman, rather than the blood-thirsty shark type of guy, who balked at them and left others to deal with it. The kid ("My name's Amelia, but you can call me Mo, 'cause that's what all my friends call me" – he remembered the days when friendship was as easy as a common interest in Star Wars and the sharing of a toy) was nattering on about how her uncle had all the Star Wars movies and how he'd let her watch them when she was sick, because he says that Luke Skywalker and chicken soup is the only way to feel better and don't you wish lightsabers were real? Mike kept up with the steady stream of information and questions, interjecting here and there ("Yeah! Lightsabers would be awesome!"), whilst craning his neck looking for someone to help him find the kid's mom.

He approached Donna's desk someway around a story about ballet shoes and princess dresses. The redhead raised her eyebrows.

"So, puppy's got himself a tail?"

Mike sighed and asked her if she knew where the kid was meant to be. Donna shot him a look that said 'please, I know everything'. The kid, it turned out, was the daughter of a friend of Jessica's and one of their new clients. She was looking for new representation after her old lawyer had died (pulmonary embolism – the stress had gotten to him), and she was turning to Jessica. Apparently Jessica had suggested Harvey be her representation and she had scoffed and said that she didn't want some cocky, arrogant ass representing the company that she had built from the ground up with the savings left to her by her father, the company whose employees were considered her family, the company with all that heart, no thank you and did Jessica have anyone else with was just as good, but a little less..._Harvey _about everything?

"Uh, Donna? Could you maybe– "

"No."

"But–"

"No Michael. I'm busy, besides her mom should be out soon. They're in Jessica's office, you could probably wait outside."

She eased the kid off of her lap and told her to go with the nice man. Mike sighed and waited for her to take her position at his side again, before heading off to Jessica's office, hoping that Harvey wouldn't see him and accuse him of slacking off to watch some child or something. They reached Jessica's office and Mike could see Jessica and Harvey talking to a woman with curly brown hair in a pencil skirt and skyscraper heels, who was gesticulating effusively with her hands as she talked. Mike looked at the girl, who was currently making Boba Fet climb the wall. He couldn't just leave her here. What if she wandered off again and got lost or go running in the corridors and trip and fall and hit her head. Or what is she encountered Louis. Nope. It would be better if he stayed.

Harvey Spector listened as Anna Marie explained her need for a new lawyer to Jessica. She was emotional, because her old lawyer had been a friend of her family's for years, he'd been her brother's god-father, she used to swim in his pool and have water fights with his kids while his wife made lemonade and he joked with her dad around the barbeque. Harvey didn't really _do_ emotion. Jessica was about to launch into her 'why-Harvey-Spector-is-_always_-the-man-for-the-job speech', but she shook her head and said, "I already told you Jessica! No offense Harvey, I mean, you're good, by all accounts the best actually, but my business is a family business and that means family through and through. Harold was like a second father to me and everyone loved him. I know lawyers are meant to be sharp and unattached, but I want someone who's as good a fit as Harold. Someone who will really care, you know? I am sure you'd be brilliant, but I need someone...someone who feels right." Earnest green eyes turned on him and, if he weren't the great Harvey Spector, he might have shifted uncomfortably at the tears that were threatening to spill over. Jessica reached out and pulled her into a hug and Harvey turned his attention to outside of the office.

There was his associate, engaged in what appeared to be an epic lightsaber battle with a small child. There were pencils and overly exaggerated dying scenes involve. The child stabbed at Mike and he started spluttering and the collapsed on the floor, groaning, as the child giggled at him. Harvey let out an exacerbated sigh. Leave it to the puppy to make friends with a child and potentially embarrass him in front of a client. The dying scene had apparently attracted Jessica's attention as well, because she followed Harvey's gaze to his associate, who was now completely lying on the floor with his tongue sticking out and his eyes closed. Anna Marie turned around to see what they were looking at. Mike was getting up, making a big show of coming back to life when he noticed the three sets of eyes on him and blushed scarlet. Anna Marie walked to the office door and yanked it open. With a jubilant shout of "Mom!" the kid ran and jumped into her mother's arms, talking a mile a minute about how she'd gotten lost but her friend Mike had helped her and he had a Boba Fet toy and d'you think maybe she'd be able to get one too?

Before Harvey could apologise for his associates unprofessional behaviour, or maybe just disassociate himself from him altogether (really, he'd been fake dying in the middle of the law firm), Anna put down the child and ruffled her curls. Harvey shot Mike a look and he shuffled his feet and looked at his shoes.

"What did I say about wandering off, munchkin?" addressed to the child. She turned to Mike, "And I take it you're the one I have to thank for saving my little trouble maker from getting lost in the big, bad world of Pearson-Hardman and making me obligated to go shopping for Star Wars memorabilia?"

He nodded and stuck out his hand, "Mike Ross. I'm Harvey's associate."

"You. You're Harvey's new golden-boy? Really? You were playing Star Wars with Mo. You stayed with her and kept her entertained instead of just leaving her here. And you're Harvey's associate?"

Mike's blue eyes turned to hers (because yes, he was Harvey's associate and he was damn proud to be so).

"Yes, yes I am."

His voice was strong, assured, confident, but you could still detect the hint of hopefulness and empathy under the surface. Anna raised her eyebrows and then her face broke into a wide smile.

"Well. Jessica? If, and this is still an if because I am still not entirely sure, if I allow Harvey to represent my business, will I be assured that Mr Ross here will be involved? Because any man who knows his way around a lightsaber and makes my girl smile would fit right in with the Peterson Publishing family." Harvey's eyes widened slightly, Mike blushed pink and smiled, and Jessica rushed to assure her that indeed, Mike would be involved. Anna Marie smiled and shook the perplexed Harvey's hand.

"Good. Then we have a deal. Now I get the best of the best, and a little character thrown in to boot. Now come along Mo-Mo, I believe I promised you ice cream and feeding the ducks in Central Park."

She turned to Jessica, "I'll be along on Wednesday to make things official." She offered Mike a final smile and offered her hand to Amelia. They had turned the corner and were out of sight when a flurry of motion and the sound of bright pink wellies running along the corridor caught Mike's attention from smirking at Harvey.

"Here's your Boba Fet. He's awesome! Bye!"

The kid bounded off enthusiastically. Jessica smiled at Mike, happy to have landed a new client no matter the unorthodox means. Harvey shook his head and walked towards his office, muttering about being too old for action figures. Mike looked at the toy in his hands. Maybe Trevor was right.

Maybe it was his good luck charm, after all.

**AN: Well, there you go. Reviews make me smile and help me with the pretence that writing fanfiction is more productive than studying, so please click that big ol' blue button over there =)**


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